Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet…

So I was reading Lisa Jo Baker’s blog over on Simple Mom called How to work from home without losing your mind {what a fulltime job, 3 kids, 1 dog and a hamster have taught me}. I love Lisa Jo. I’ve been reading her blog for over a year now, and I swear every time I read her, I come away changed.

But today she was writing from her own experience how she makes her life work.,..  between being an employee, a blogger, a mommy, a wife… she has a lot on her plate.

Like we all do.

At the end, she asked for our tips… what ways had we found to make our lives *work* for us.  As I was reading the comments, some of them felt a little heated whether they were intended that way or not,We’re all just struggling to be heard in this great big world that just keeps getting smaller and smaller. So afraid that we don’t count. Or that we do count, but that we’re wrong! But it made me think. And I got to thinking about what ways I and my family had found to make my life work for me. After writing an obscenely long blog comment over there, I decided it would actually BE a blog it was so long… so wah lah! here it is! My thoughts…..

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Because I had a cake emergency….

The real me now may not be thin, but she’s got the cake, and, if she likes, can eat it, too. ~~Arabella Weir

We’re always joking in an online forum that I’m a member of that we’re going to get a commune one day. We’ll all live right there together happily ever after, and between all the skills we all possess, we probably won’t ever want for anything.  We have quilters, chefs, bakers, writers, comedians, mammas, kids, husbands, organizers, farmers, and cheerleaders. We have it all!

And if there were anyone I was going to live in a commune with, it’s this group of women. They’re amazing and talented and have taught me that women can, indeed, be friends.

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Come on Baby, Light My Fire…. Or Why Melle Also Did Not Learn to Cook, Either…. Part Two

True story #1.

Flint Lighter
Flint. Yeah. Whatevs.

Supposedly, you squeeze the handle together with some downward pressure and it scrapes something across something else and the flint and it makes a spark and you do all this while holding it near the flowing natural gas to which the Bunsen burner has been attached…. and wah-lah! You have fire. Yeah. Mmhmm. Sure.

When I was in AP Chemistry as a Junior in High School, I was physically incapable of lighting my own Bunsen burner. As a result, I and my lab partner, would hold our Bunsen burners microphone style and sing the Doors song to Eric Whittenburg. Who I had a GINORMOUS crush on. Eric Whittenburg would not know this because the only way I was emotionally capable of expressing this interest in him was by yanking his hairs out one by one from my seat behind him. And playing with his bottom with my feet by tucking them into his chair. If you are friends with Eric Whittenburg, and he has told you stories of this crazy irritating hair plucking girl from Montgomery, AL in the early 90’s…  well… *waves*
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Ruffled Feathers…. Or, Why Melle Didn’t Learn to Sew Until Last Year, Part One

There’s Always Room For J-E-L-L-O…

When I was in seventh grade, I signed myself up for Home Economics. Y’all probably all took home ec. It’s a pretty basic class.

Goza the Gozarian
Mrs. Goza… Junior High Principle. Really, though with a name like Goza and purposefully surrounding herself with 7th graders, she was asking for it…

I am bettin’ though that not a single one of you walked up to the door on the first day of the third week and were greeted by the teacher, who barred your entrance. I was, instead, to report to the guidance office where Gozer the Gozerian was waiting. (Ghostbuster had just come out. Her name was Mrs. Goza. I got caught calling her Gozer the Gozerian to her face though…. To say I wasn’t her favorite student would be like saying Titanic was running a little late getting into New York.)

Continue reading “Ruffled Feathers…. Or, Why Melle Didn’t Learn to Sew Until Last Year, Part One”